Of Nightmares
by YanderePuppet
Summary: His toy was his. No one else would have it.


**A/N: I have three other things nearly done, but I wrote this all today because I needed something for Halloween this year. Not very long, I did have a few lectures and a date. I mean, it is Halloween after all. Only the best holiday ever. Big news for the like three people who care. I… Got myself accounts on actual decent social media. So I might add those to my profile (likely the archive one since doesn't do urls. I dressed up as Kura from my newer fic for Halloween because of course, he's a role play character for me and I just wanted too, so though images might be available on my different social media sites. Twitter I may not link, because that deals with my political affiliations and as heated as politics are this year, I'd like to not say anything. Beside so, moderates like me always get shit from both sides. But I did get tumblr, after a lot of convincing, and I still honestly can't really work the app, so I might not actually add you back or anything. I just follow people if I see them recommended, so I mostly have psychology stuff there, but I did follow a few authors I follow here that I came across through other posts. Only like two, but I'd follow more if the search system was less confusing.**

 **Anyway, on to the actual fic before I ramble too much-**

 _He couldn't believe his eyes, his ears… Anything. There was absolutely no chance this was real, it couldn't be. His limbs felt drained, weak. He'd never been weak in his entire existence, and to be so vulnerable and incapable now of all times! He screamed out at the top of his lungs. They couldn't do this. Anything else… Hell. He'd done worse, would do worse again, but he… He had every right to do what he did. They had no right. No right to touch what he'd always known to be_ _ **his**_ _, no right to dirty that small frame with their hands. To leave that body bent and broken… That was supposed to be_ _ **his**_ _job. This… This was meant to be_ _ **his.**_ _And now it was being taken away. He cursed them, cursed everything as he watched blood well up between those lips, as he watched them use the body of his beloved one at a time, then finally as he stood helplessly calling out, he watched them break that fragile neck. He screamed again, the sound nothing but agony bouncing endlessly off the walls. They turned to him with the gaunt, sallow face of his own childhood tormentor. Slimy and with glass glinting on their eyes they disappeared from view, leaving him with the mutilated corpse of the only one he'd ever desired. His limbs could move once more, but there was nothing he could do to make crystal blue eyes refocus, to bring color back to bruised, pale skin. He couldn't heal the tearing where the most intimate areas had been so forcibly breached. (He swore he'd destroy and demolish everything,_ _ **everyone**_ _for taking that right from him. He was meant to be the first… The only one… no one else could… Should've touched… Especially not there… They...They stole his prize away!) he could only try to wash the drying blood from errant tufts of blonde hair, could only plant a kiss on that fore head. He felt the entirety of existence pour into himself, felt the universe ripping his souls apart piece by piece. He tried to plant one last kiss on that face, only to feel himself disappear forever._

And the he awoke, alive once more, and with every ounce of his former strength. He could sense the presence of his love, so far away, but alive. Alive and just waiting to claimed. He wouldn't lose him. Not within the plains of reality. After all, the world was his, wasn't it? And _he_ was his. But… Just to be sure… Yes, he would claim his property. He'd make sure that dream never found its way to reality. He stood, wandering towards the presence, the name of his objective rolling off his tongue like it was the only thing keeping him around.

" _Cloud…"_

He was too new in this body, still getting used to the functions and motions thereof, and frankly, unaware of changes to this world since his latest demise. But he swore to himself, he wouldn't fall again. There would be no more falls, no more respite. If he dies once more, he was certain he'd be too late. He had to stay alive. Yes, or else he would lose… No, there was no need to think about that. He wouldn't falter, couldn't fail, so how could he possibly lose his precious love? Yes, all he had to do was live, long enough to find him again. Fighting back another wave of Behemoths with ease, he continued toward his goal, focused and immoveable. He would have what he desired, what he deserved. What was his once soon would be again. (It was always his anyway.) All those who would dare to come between them… Well, even such a heartless monster as himself must admit he'd pity them, knowing just how downright _cruel_ he was. But it was justified. All he did was justified. There were no errors. Not from one so perfect as himself. And especially not one here, as it was _their_ fault for being in his way. (No one would keep his prize from him this time. He wouldn't allow it. Couldn't allow it.) _Their fault if they think they can hide him._ _They'll all die for it too._ He could feel a smirk curl out across his lips, a cruel thoughtless expression, it's edges sharp as the sword he carried, and as disturbing as the countless pointless deaths dealt by his hands. No, but they weren't pointless. Even his own amusement was a relevant purpose for murder. After all, all things were his… Weren't they? So he couldn't allow the smaller, more annoying, _unwanted_ toys to take _him_ away. That just could not be allowed to happen.

Focus. He needed to focus. To live. Stay awake and away from the green and the darkness. Or else he'd never have what he wanted most. Or else he'd lose _him_. _**Focus!**_

He finally arrived. He was here, with his prize. He could smell him. Could see the pale blonde hair from around the corner. He swore to himself, to the blonde as well, that he would make sure he saw it his way. Oh yes. He knew how to make people agree with him. He knew his blonde inside and out. He _would_ have him. He stepped around the corner, putting a hand over that mouth to stifle any noises. He knew Cloud wasn't the type to scream, it was more for the aesthetic of it. His cold fingers on those pink budding lips. He felt the lithe form, already tense and on edge (after all, the link between them, their DNA, led them to sensing the other's location at all times) give a little. A resigned sigh came out, muffled by his own fingertips. Ah, how warm that breath was.

"I'm so glad I found you, Cloud." He whispered, dragging the blonde away and finally letting him speak.

"...I'll get my sword then." The blonde said, sighing and looking done with this already. That wouldn't do.

"Do you truly believe all I'm here for is a fight?" He asked, voice a low purr. He wrapped a hand around the blond's arm.

"It's the only way to get rid of you. So that's the only part I care about."

"Hmph. So cold still. I suppose that will have to change with time."

"Not interested-" Cloud began, but he had the blonde shoved back into the wall immediately.

" _**Mine!"**_ He all but screamed into the blond's mind. "...mine…" He repeated, voice weaker, face softer as he leaned forward.

"The fuck got into you?" The blond asked, voice bored and listless.

"I missed you." He said, simple. "Death is quite lonely, I hope you realize. You're all I have. I feel like every day I lose more and more of you. I can't stand it!" He willed his face to form actual human expressions. It would confuse the man. Confusing his prize would make him easier to control after all. Confusing him would leave him vulnerable to manipulations, to doubts. It would be perfect.

As it was, he managed to confuse the blond into allowing himself to be held. Managed to weasel himself into a secret hideaway of the blond's, to pretend he was "sane" again. As if he ever wasn't. He knew what he was doing, what he wanted. He wanted his love to belong only to him. He wanted to be stronger than anyone else in all of existence. He wanted to murder and destroy all things that could potentially take away what was his. A universe in which only the two of them could exist. And with each day the blond came back to their shared home, their secret hideout, his goal became more and more feasible.

"Are you sure they all really care about you? Absolutely sure?" He asked the blond one day.

"Well I… Think so."

"Would they support your decision to let me live? To live with me?"

"...of course not. But I doubt I could blame them."

"If they really cared, wouldn't they trust you?"

"...I…"

"I for one would stand by any decision you made."

"Really?"

"Of course. I already have the one thing I would've changed about you. You are mine now." And to demonstrate, he gave the blond a kiss, unable to fully hide his own smugness at his victory.

 _Soon._

He came home one day with blood specks still staining normally immaculate silver hair. He couldn't even reach the shower before running into a very curious Cloud.

"You killed someone?" Cloud seemed more or less like he'd expected as much.

"I heard them threaten your well being." The man growled. "Besides, it was just some lowlife anyway."

"Well when you put it that way…"

A month later he returned home blood soaked once more. It wasn't unusual for him to do so now. It was almost a daily occurrence, but the blond was so used to it that he was almost desensitized by this point. He was also so brainwashed from all the subliminal messages and circular speak from the man that he had become disenchanted with the rest of the world anyway. In all honesty, he doubted he'd feel a thing even if the blood was that of one of his friends'. But the man new for a fact that he had killed the last of those "friends" now. His toy had no escape, nowhere else to run but back to him again. He'd finally fine it.

Pale skin was littered with cuts, large bulbous drops of blood welling out of several such wounds. The cuts were everywhere. One set down each limb, each finger, each toe. There were even some on Cloud's forehead, almost hidden in the pale fluff of the male's hair. Each set of cuts formed his name. Everyone would know now. His blonde was so obviously marked, so irrefutably branded, no one could ever doubt that his prized possession was really his ever again. Especially when those eyes shone out to him, no longer blue, but acid green.

Oh yes, he had won back his prize. And he would never let it go again.


End file.
